


Tim Drake Drabbles Collection

by WynterRobin



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynterRobin/pseuds/WynterRobin
Summary: A collection of Tim Drake/Reader drabbles originally posted on Tumblr.





	1. Pancake Woes

**Author's Note:**

> **Tim Drake Week - Day 1 Prompt 33**
> 
>  
> 
> “Take a look at your soul and consider your life choices! Oh wait, that’s right! You don’t fucking have a soul!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim Drake Week - Day 1 Prompt 33
> 
> “Take a look at your soul and consider your life choices! Oh wait, that’s right! You don’t fucking have a soul!”

You winced, Tim’s raised voice floating down the hallway to where you stood in the doorway to your apartment. Your boyfriend had told you he was going to be home alone today, so you weren’t quite sure what was going on until you heard Jason yell back in equal volume.  
  
“Oh, god, just go drown in a bathtub of syrup why don’t ya?”

“What in the name of all that is good..” You mumbled to yourself, shutting the door behind you and heading towards the source of the arguing. The sight that met you in the kitchen was not what you had been expecting. All four of the batboys were crowded into your small cooking area, each wearing an apron and covered in no small amount of flour. Damian was perched on the counter whisking a beige colored substance in a large mixing bowl, while Dick wrestled with something suspiciously burnt looking in a pan on the stove, Tim and Jason hovering anxiously behind him and making dagger eyes at each other.

They all looked up when you walked in, surprise evident on their faces. “Oh! You’re home early!” Tim walked over to you, expression sheepish as he pulled you into him for a hug, possibly to hide the chaos unfolding behind him. “Hi,” You reached up to press a kiss to his cheek, simultaneously trying to peer over his shoulder. “What’s going on here?” 

Your boyfriend sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping. “You were disappointed about missing Alfred’s pancakes this morning, so we were going to surprise you..”  
“Unfortunately, replacement here forgot to mention that he can’t cook, like any of us can,” Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes at you over Tim’s shoulder. Tim sighed, scuffing his shoe against the tile. “The place is a mess I know, I’m really sorry babe,” 

Then, to everyone’s surprise, you giggled. “You idiots,” You strode over to where Dick was still standing by the stove, taking the pan from him with a grin. “Let me take care of this. You guys clean up, and then we can all eat together mkay?”

You were just flipping the first pancake when you felt arms snake around your waist, and then Tim’s chin was resting on your shoulder. “You’re really not mad?” he asked quietly, and you shook your head.  
“Not at all. It was really sweet of you guys to try, so thank you,” “But we messed it up,” Tim’s tone was perplexed as he turned to meet your fond gaze.  
“It’s the thought that counts. And we can still have pancakes together, it doesn’t matter who makes them. I’m happy just getting to spend time with everyone,” 

Tim hummed, seemingly statisfied with your answer as he kissed your hair. “You’re really the best babe,”  
You grinned. “Don’t speak too soon, you still have to help me make these. I can’t believe you’ve never done it before! Grab the bowl over there, I’m going to show you how it’s done,” Tim groaned, and you struggled to conceal your smile as he trudged dramatically across the kitchen to retrieve the pancake batter.


	2. That Wasn't A Barrel Roll Drake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim Drake Week Day 1 Prompt 15**
> 
> “Now, how exactly did your foot get stuck in the barrel?” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, tone patient even as you tried your best not to burst into laughter at the pathetic scene in front of you. Dick and Damian had shown up at your apartment door around ten minutes ago, carrying your boyfriend between them. Normally Tim slipped in through the window after patrol, but tonight was a special case. 

“Tt. Drake decided that the best way to avoid getting shot was to jump into a shipping crate,” Tim threw a glare at Damian from where he was propped up on the sofa. “Maybe if somebody had covered me like they were meant to I wouldn’t have had to jump off a building in the first place!” 

“Okay. That’s enough,” You held up your hands in a placating manner, sharing a long suffering look with Dick who had glanced up from examining Tim’s leg when they started arguing. “Now,” You gazed critically at the barrel your boyfriends leg was stuck in. “Do we try to pull him out, or saw him out?” 

“What? No!” Tim shot up on the sofa, his voice full of indignation as he attempted to yank his leg away from Dick unsuccessfully. The barrel was too cumbersome for him to manoeuvre in your cluttered living room, rendering him stuck on the couch until one of you decided to try moving him. “You are not playing tug of war with me, just leave it alone and I’ll get out myself,” “Tim,” You put on your best stern mom voice and he groaned, folding his arms over his chest and looking away. “Fine. Just get it over with,” 

One heated debate later, you had come to the conclusion that trying to pull Tim out of the barrel would be dangerous not only for him but also for your expensive Wayne Enterprises funded furniture, and so decided to cut him out instead. Damian point blank refused to sully his katana by using it like it was “some common wood axe” and so you ended up pulling out a saw from your tool supply and watching as Dick cut him free. The whole process took almost an hour, an hour in which Damian and Tim spent bickering and Dick chattered away cheerily about recent ongoings in Bludhaven. 

Dick and Damian ended up staying in the guest room once Tim had been stripped of both the barrel and his dignity, and you practically fell into bed just before four a.m. You lay there in the dark in companionable silence for a few minutes before you finally broke into a fit of giggles. “What’s so funny?” Tim’s voice was thick with sleep already as he curled around you, burrowing into your hair.   
“I can’t believe you actually got your foot stuck in a barrel,” Tim groaned. “Shut up,” That just caused you to giggle more as you snuggled in under the blankets to finally get some sleep.


	3. With You I'm Seeing Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim Drake Week Day 1 Prompt 12**
> 
> “One day, darling, you and I are going to conquer the Universe not just our world.”

“Were you watching sappy romance movies while I was at work again?” You turned away from the edge of the roof, raising an at Tim where he was splayed across the concrete in his Red Robin costume, cowl pulled back so you could see the grin playing across his gorgeous lips. This high up the wind was cold, your capes dancing around you like black flames in the night. 

The sounds of Gotham’s hectic nightlife were faint up here, if you tried hard enough you could almost make yourself believe that you were somewhere else, somewhere peaceful. But honestly, you didn’t want to try. This was your home, and neither of you had ever been content living a normal life. And the uncontrollable grin on Tim’s face, the wild light in his eyes after a night spent fighting Gotham’s finest criminals and winning - that wasn’t a sight you would trade for all the world. 

“Actually it was Star Wars today,” he offered, only moving to interlink your fingers when you lay down beside him. The chill from the concrete seeped through your costume like ice, a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from the boy beside you. 

“So where are we going to start?” “Hmm?”   
“Youknow, with the whole conquering the Universe thing. You’ve got to have a game plan,” Tim laughed, his fingers squeezing yours tightly. “Probably the Andromeda,” He pointed out a constellation to you, faintly visible despite the light pollution from the city below.   
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” “The technological advancements in that galaxy would be very beneficial to our cause,” His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable undertone of laughter in his voice that made your heart jump in your chest.  
“That seems like sound logic. Okay then, I guess I’ll consent to share the Universe with you Mr. Drake Wayne,” 

He huffed a laugh. “Thanks. I’m going to feel less nervous about proposing marriage now,” “Tim!” You turned to swat at him and Tim just laughed, catching your wrist and pulling you down on top of him. You didn’t bother to struggle, instead propping yourself up on his chest and frowning down at him. “Not funny,” you scolded, cheeks still warm.   
“No, it’s completely serious,” Tim agreed, and you weren’t able to hit him this time. Instead you rolled your eyes, trying to play off your blush. “You’re insufferable Tim Drake,”   
“But you choose to suffer me,” He pointed out, leaning in so that your noses brushed. “Touché,” you mumbled, just before he pressed his lips to yours. 

You leaned into the kiss, and then there was nothing else in your mind except for Tim Drake, and how amazing and unlikely it was that he was yours. Maybe what he said was right, and one day you would conquer the whole Universe together. But as long as you had each other you didn’t really care either way. You had just enough right here.


	4. Decaf Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim Drake Week Day 1 Prompt 10**
> 
> “And I thought I was a bit weird. But you! You are insane!”

“Isn’t that a little overdramatic little wing?” Dick chuckled at his younger brother behind his hot chocolate, still smiling despite the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes. “Dick!” Tim hissed, leaning conspiratorially over the diner table towards his brother. “She’s drinking decaf at four in the morning!” 

“Tt. Maybe she actually wants to sleep tonight Drake,” Damian scoffed, and you smiled at him across the table. You’d all just gotten back from a rough mission and decided to regroup for a super early breakfast once you’d been home to change. Sleep over the last few days had been minimal at best and you were looking forward to being unconscious for as many consecutive hours as possible. Your boyfriend on the other hand… 

“The case can’t be officially closed until we can get these reports in to the GPD. I need this,” Tim defended his coffee, clutching it close to his chest and shooting yours a disgusted glare where it was placed on the table. Jason scoffed, his first contribution to the conversion since placing his order when you first arrived at the deserted Wendy’s in downtown Gotham. 

Jason had probably gotten less sleep than any of you, and it showed in the way he slumped back in his seat, only moving to poke occasionally at the stack of pancakes and bacon in front of him. “Give it a rest for a night replacement. I’m not dragging your sorry ass back to daddy bats if you fall off a building again,” 

“I agree with Jason. You need to sleep Timmy,” You nudged your boyfriend’s shoulder gently to emphasise your point and he slumped down in his seat, mumbling to himself under his breath. “What was that babe?” You grinned at him, picking up your latte and taking a sip. Tim watched you, his face full of suffering. “My girlfriend is a decaf monster. There’s no justice in this world,” “But Tim,” You smirked evilly. “I am justice,” There was a round of groans and chuckles at your lame vigilante pun, and Tim just shook his head, lips quirking up ruefully. Your jokes may be cheesy but they were just one of the many things he loved about you. 

“Seriously though. This decaf monster is going to kick your ass if you don’t come to bed tonight, so how about you give it a try?” You held out your coffee in offering, and Tim looked at it for a long moment before sighing in defeat and setting his own down. “It better be obvious that I love you, because if I didn’t this would never happen,” 

Tim took a sip, grimacing, and you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too babe,” Jason ‘aww’d mockingly at that, only to be kicked under the table by your boyfriend. Dick, to his credit, hid his grin behind his mug.


	5. The Prank War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim Drake Week Day 1 Prompt 3**
> 
> “Wait, why am I naked and covered in cheese?” 

“Because that’s what happens when you start a prank war with me babe,” You smirked down at your boyfriend, one hand poised on your hip while the other held a can of spray cheese. “And besides. I left you your underwear, I’m not that cruel,” Tim blinked down at his cheese covered form groggily, and then wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You realise that our bed is going to smell like milk forever now right? We’re going to have to get a new mattress,” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean like I had to get new textbooks when you set off the fire alarm and soaked them?”   
Tim groaned, trying to peel himself out of his cheese cocoon so that he could sit up. “That was Jason! I told you I never wanted to be part of this ridiculous game,” You scoffed.   
“Funny, that wasn’t the impression I got when you covered the entire hallway in plastic cups of water,” “Fine I’m sorry! Please can we call a truce?” You hummed, considering it. You figured if you teamed up you might finally be able to get Jason… 

“Okay. Truce,” you agreed chirpily. “Oh thank god,” Tim sighed, managing to unstick himself from the mattress and stand up. He glanced at the door leading to the bathroom, and you wondered if you should tell him you had replaced his shampoo with cheese too. But you had done it before the truce.. 

Tim turned his gaze on you then, and there a playful smile tugging at his lips that instinctively made you wary. “Tim…” “Babe. How about we celebrate our truce with a nice big hug?” His eyes gleamed with mischief as he took a step towards you. “Tim, no. No no no…” You started to retreat towards the door, Tim advancing on you with his arms spread wide in all his cheesy glory.

“Tim don’t you dare!” The words came out as a squeak as you darted out of the room. You heard Tim laughing behind you, already in pursuit as you raced down the hallway to the kitchen, hoping to arm yourself with more sprayable foods. This was likely to get very out of hand very fast. You definitely weren’t going to tell him about his shampoo after this.


	6. These City Lights (Illuminate Our Flaws)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim Drake Week Day 2 Prompt 27**
> 
> "I wish I'd never met you"

The click of the door opening was loud in the still apartment. The lights from the city outside your window threw Tim’s face into a stark contrast of light and shadow as he slipped quietly into the room, shutting the door softly behind him. He didn’t notice you immediately, huddled in the corner armchair as you were, wrapped up snug in a blanket to keep out the night’s chill while you waited for your boyfriend to come home. 

“Tim,” Your voice was startlingly loud, even though the word was spoken quietly. Surprise flickered across his face for a moment, before he glanced away, closing off. “You didn’t have to wait up for me,” “What, I was meant to go to bed and hope I wouldn’t trip over your body on my way to make my morning coffee?” Your tone was sharper this time, the worry you had nursed for hours flaring into anger and hurt now that Tim was here in front of you. He seemed taken aback by your outburst, stepping forward hesitantly before pausing, hovering uncertainly in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No Tim,” You stood up now, hands balled into fists at your sides, tears stinging your eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you beat yourself up like this anymore Tim. It’s killing me,” And it was. Kon’s death had hit Tim hard. He’d been throwing himself into his work like never before, staying out all night and making reckless decisions that more often than not led to him coming home beaten amd bruised to within an inch of his life. You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, wondering if this time would be the time that your boyfriend wouldn’t come back at all. And you couldn’t take it anymore. “I wish I’d never met you,” you sobbed, tears falling freely now. You scrubbed at your eyes, trying to stop crying, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it was too much. You’d kept your feelings bottled up for weeks, and now that you’d started there was no stopping. 

The next thing you knew Tim was pulling you into his arms, holding you tight and burying his face in your hair. You sobbed into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life. “I’m so scared Tim,” He was your best friend, the love of your life. You couldn’t stand to lose him. “I’m so sorry,” His voice cracked on the last syllable, and your heart ached in your chest. “I’ll fix this I promise. God, I’m so sorry babe,” 

You stood there in the darkened apartment for who knows how long, illuminated by the city lights and held tight in each others arms. You just hoped that now you had broken you could finally start to heal.


	7. From Pieces of Broken Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tim Drake Week Day 2 Prompt 7**
> 
> "I thought you loved me,"

You held your breath as the phone rang, leaning against the kitchen counter and hoping beyond all hope that Tim was okay, that he had just gotten tied up at work, that he hadn’t forgotten. 

Tim picked up just when you were considering ending the call. “Hey, is everything okay?” He sounded relaxed, even if a little confused. You didn’t usually call him unless there was an emergency, knowing how hectic his schedule was.   
“Yeah, I was just.. Are you coming home?” You felt stupidly self conscious for asking, sure now that you were just annoying him by interrupting whatever he was doing.  
“I actually decided to just head straight over to the manor for patrol, work ran kind of late,” His voice was apologetic now, a trace of what might have been worry seeping into his tone. 

Now that he’d said it you could identify Dick talking in the background, Jason’s laughter.   
“Babe do you need me to come home?” It took you a moment to realise you hadn’t said anything in response. You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady when you replied.   
“No that’s fine. I was just making sure. Be careful on patrol,” You wavered on the last word and silently cursed yourself for being so pathetic. “Babe? What-” 

“Bye Tim,” You ended the call abruptly and then just stood there, frozen, the phone still held in your hand. The beautifully laid out table before you was now just a cruel reminder of how stupid you had been, how naive. The dinner you had spent hours preparing, sitting cold and untouched on your plates, candlelight casting a light that no longer seemed warm and inviting but instead made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Tim had forgotten your anniversary. You closed your eyes against the tears that you had fought so hard against while talking to Tim but now threatened to overflow. “I thought you loved me,” The words were a broken whisper. You clutched the phone tightly, unable to let go as the first tear streamed down you cheek.


	8. How You Said 'I Love You'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **How You Said 'I love you' Prompt 33: On a post-it note.**

It started the first time you caught Tim crawling through your apartment window at three a.m, having gotten up to get a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen. You’d known that your best friend was Red Robin for a long time, but you hadn’t grasped just how much his alter ego impacted on his life until you moved in together. 

You didn’t recognise that it was him at first and nearly dropped the glass in shock. But when you did, and saw the sorry state he was in (he had a black eye and a couple of nasty gashes) instinct took over. You grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink, then coerced him into sitting on the couch so you could fix him up, ignoring his protests. When you were done with tending his injuries you sent him off to bed, warning him firmly that he’d better actually sleep, or else. 

The next morning you got up early before work to make Tim breakfast, knowing that he wouldn’t bother to do it for himself when he woke. You left it in the fridge, sticking a post-it note to the door. _‘Tylenol is on the counter and breakfast is in the fridge. Be safe,’_ It was the first of many notes. 

You quickly learned that Tim was never up before noon. You only saw him in the evenings after work (you always ate dinner together), or on your days off when he was usually absorbed in his computer for the entirety of his waking hours. You had almost seen more of him before you moved in together, and you found that you missed him. You started to leave him post-it’s more often. 

At first they were all pretty much the same, detailing where to find breakfast and asking him to please try not to die while you were gone. Tim always thanked you for breakfast when you came home, admitting one night that your notes were the best part of his day some days. Then the post-it’s started to become more varied. 

You started leaving him little personal messages. Recommendations of movies that would be shown on tv that day, little inside jokes or pop culture references, sometimes even little doodles. Sometimes your phone would ping at work, and when you unlocked it you would find a message from Tim containing his response to your note. Sometimes it was just smiley faces, but other times it was selfies of him eating breakfast, sleep rumpled but grinning, or a detailed review of the movie you’d told him to watch. Whatever it was, it always made you smile. 

Then one night you were woken by a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by a pained groan that you easily recognised as Tim’s. You stumbled into the room to find your best friend collapsed on the floor by the window, blood seeping onto the tiles around him. The next hour was blurred in your memory, full of hazy images of Tim, pale and lifeless, bleeding out on your couch. Somehow you managed to stop the flow of blood from his more serious wounds, although your bandaging was mediocre and your stitching was uneven because of your shaking hands. 

You let Tim sleep on the couch, reluctant to attempt moving him just yet. You fell asleep in the armchair opposite, after many hours of keeping vigil over him. The next morning your post-it note was short, written in shaky cursive. _'I love you Tim,’_ and then underneath in brackets, _’(You idiot)’_.

It was several hours later that you got a reply. It was a picture message. You held your breath while it loaded. Your heart stuttered when you saw what he had sent you. It was a picture of Tim, sitting at the counter. His hair was disheveled and he was pale, dark circles obvious beneath his eyes. Despite that, his mouth was curved up in a huge grin. One arm was stretched out away from his body, obviously holding the phone. In his other hand he held up a post it note. On it were written four words, in Tim’s familiar sloping script. _'I love you too,’_


End file.
